


i see sparks fly (whenever you smile)

by jjhs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Non-Linear Narrative, Short n sweet, Softness, it's really just soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 09:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19438735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjhs/pseuds/jjhs
Summary: the thing about it is that it’s natural. jaemin holding his hand, hugging him, kissing him on the cheek, cuddling him at night. it feels like second nature, like it happens all the time because it should.jisung admits that he wasn’t the biggest fan of it, the attention, but jaemin made it feel perfect. and, jisung warmed up to it. he loved it as time went on.





	i see sparks fly (whenever you smile)

**Author's Note:**

> fearless n sparks fly are good songs i really recommend them
> 
> anyway, this is soft n fluff...literally no angst
> 
> wow,,,, this is weird for me
> 
> hope u enjoy yeahh

“jisung,” jaemin says, voice deep. jisung move his head for the first time since he woke up an hour ago from their nap, jaemin’s front pressed against his back, one arm slipped under jisung’s pillow and his other arm thrown over his waist. “my arm is numb.”

jisung blinks before bursting out into giggles. “sorry.” he scoots over and jaemin moves his arm, but whines when jisung gets a little too far away. he grabs at jisung’s waist and pulls him back, tickling him. “you’re so clingy.”

jaemin grins. “and?”

“nothing.”

jisung nuzzles his face into jaemin’s bare chest. he smells like peaches and mint, a hint of coffee, but jisung thinks that's just because jaemin’s blood is mostly coffee at this point. jaemin’s fingers card through jisung’s hair.

jaemin pulls the covers up to their shoulders.

“we have to wake up soon for practice,” jaemin mumbles, eyes already shutting closed.

jisung says something into jaemin’s chest, but jaemin doesn’t understand it. he just kisses jisung’s head and drifts off to sleep.

jaemin is very distracting. not that jisung didn’t know that, just that he’s realizing it as jaemin is all over him. he’s so...so. jisung isn’t good with words, really never has been. so, the best way he can describe how jaemin makes him feel is alkdfjadlkfjdslkfjdslkfjdsklf. 

it’s kind of annoying, in a way...but, it’s far less annoying than it is so. jaemin likes holding his hand, his thigh, his sides, his chin. jaemin just likes jisung...maybe a little too much.

not that jisung is not a fan of jaemin because he very much is so. he likes it just as much as jaemin likes him.

the only thing is jisung constantly feels like he’s going to explode from nerves around jaemin. like all the butterflies dancing around in his stomach are going to fly up to his lungs and suffocate him or something. it’s just kind of like never knowing what anything means.

so much confusion. so much wandering around and wondering what it all means.

kissing on the cheek and sometimes on the lips, cuddling at night, imagining forever with a person.

there’s a hundred highways, a thousand paths, a million different meanings. but, jisung can only find himself taking the same one every time.

“wanna kiss you,” jisung whines, half-asleep and maybe a little drunk because, well, feelings fucking suck. 

“sung,” jaemin scolds, taking the younger’s chin in his hand and forcing him to look at him. jisung is a bit taller, always much lankier, awkward, and drunk as shit. “jesus, you’re shit-faced.”

“kiss me, nana, please. you know you want to,” jisung doesn’t know where the words are coming from. or, well, maybe he does. his mind is all blurry, so his heart does all the talking.

“not like this,” jaemin shakes his head and runs his thumb across the soft skin of jisung’s cheek. the horrible light from above illuminates jisung, his wet eyelashes and doe-like eyes. “how much did you drink?”

jisung shrugs haphazardly, blinking and licking his lips while staring at jaemins, and jaemin knows it’s a lie, but he doesn’t call him on it. 

“the hyungs will kill you if they see you like this,” jaemin sighs. they’re in the dorms and definitely not alone. 

when jisung finally registers jaemin’s words, he starts to babble things that jaemin takes to mean jisung does not want renjun, or god forbid kun, to walk downstairs and see him like this. 

jaemin helps jisung to his bedroom, quietly trying to put him in his bed. jaemin is leaning over jisung to turn his lamp off when jisung grabs him by the shirt and yanks him down. he lands on the younger, lips inches from jisung’s.

“oops,” jisung mumbles, eyes on jaemin.

“you brat,” jaemin murmurs, but he doesn’t mean it. jisung reaks of alcohol and jaemin wants to lecture him on why he shouldn't drink, but he can’t say shit about it.

“kiss me now?” jisung is hopeful jaemin will give in because he usually does. not that jisung gets drunk or begs jaemin to kiss him often, but the few times jisung sleepily asks jaemin for a kiss, jaemin will comply because he’s whipped.

“no,” jaemin replies. he can’t help that his fingers instantly go to jisung’s hair or that his eyes can’t break away from jisung’s. he’s only a human.

“no…” jisung doesn’t like the way it sounds or how it rolls off the tongue. jisung isn’t good with rejection, thus why he doesn’t initiate anything first. he doesn’t like the bitter taste, the static noise, the burning touch of rejection.

“no,” jaemin repeats softly, knowing jisung better than jisung might know himself. “tomorrow...ask me again tomorrow.”

jisung nods and he lets go of jaemin, the older’s t-shirt being wrinkled from how tight jisung had been holding on. 

he doesn’t ask again tomorrow. maybe because he’s too busy throwing up, or because rejection is ugly and jisung wants pretty in his life...pretty like na jaemin’s smile. 

jaemin’s lips are soft. like, so soft jisung is unsure what to do with himself...not that that’s very different for him. he’s awkward when it comes to posing for a picture, and even more so when it comes to the art form of making out.

of fucking course jaemin is a natural. maybe it’s the fact that they’re sitting in a god awful, awkward position, both on the couch, bodies twisted to face each other.

jaemin does all the grunt work, turning his head to the right and jisung’s to the left with his hand on jisung’s chin. he bites and nips at jisung’s lips, but careful and gentle with jisung, like he’s agile and made of glass. maybe because he is to jaemin.

jisung is addicted to the way it feels, like eating cotton candy and then twleve hershey's chocolate bars. it’s better than any drug, more addicting than any alcohol.

jaemin pulls back and jisung chases after his lips, and jaemin laughs.

“my baby,” jaemin whispers, lips swollen and red. “really, you’re my favorite part of the day.”

jisung doesn’t know what it means because that’s the first time they’ve made out, but he doesn't question it because it makes sense to him, sort of. like...yeah. in his head, it just makes sense.

he smiles and jaemin smiles and jisung doesn’t know what this is...what they are...but he doesn’t mind. he wants jaemin to kiss him again and either jaemin can read his thoughts or he can see it all over jisung’s face because jaemin leans in and kisses him again.

jisung could do it forever. really. forever.

there’s nothing better than na jaemin, jisung decides as they eat ice cream and watch TV in their living room. jaemin isn’t supposed to have dairy, but jisung had been whining about getting ice cream to jeno all day and jeno didn’t want to go out, so jaemin took him instead.

he bragged about being the best hyung the whole way there, even though a staff member had to drive them and jaemin didn’t even pay because he forgot his wallet at home. (bullshit.)

yet, jaemin ordered coffee flavored ice cream on a cone and superman ice cream for jisung in a bowl without jisung even having to tell him what he wanted.

yeah. jisung is all lakfjdaslkfjslkdfjskf and jaemin doesn’t even know what he’s doing to him. he’s got him all soft and mushy, looking at jaemin like they’ll live forever and tomorrow will always be there because that’s what he wants.

jisung wants forever with jaemin. he wants to hold his hand and kiss him and...love...him forever. it’s so sappy and fucking domestic and its the sort of thing jisung thought he’d be running away from when the time came, but instead, he’s sprinting towards it and hoping to reach it before it disappears.

“your ice cream is melting, sung,” jaemin looks at jisung’s ice cream and raises an eyebrow. jisung realizes that a) he’s been caught staring red-handed and b) he’d much rather kiss jaemin than eat his dumb ice cream.

he drops the cup on the table and plops down next to jaemin, whose finished his cone by now.

“why are you so close to me?” jaemin squints playfully and jisung smiles.

“kiss?” he’s so cute that jaemin can’t deny him. he leans forward and pecks jisung on the lips, barely touching the younger’s before he’s pulling away. jisung whines, “nooo, not like that.”

“like what then?” jaemin is a fucking...asshole, jisung decides. but, not really. not at all.

“a real kiss.”

jaemin laughs, smile lighting up jisung’s whole world. “a what?”

“one where…” jisung can’t decide on the right words, nothing seems good enough as it runs through his head so he’s muttering and stumbling all over his words instead.

jaemin cuts him off by grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him forward, kissing him slow, lips taking in all of jisung’s. 

jisung can’t react, probably because jaemin just leaves him shell shocked all the fucking time and his body has a hard time keeping up. jisung starts to kiss him back, tongue running over jaemin’s bottom lip and tasting coffee. he wants to roll his eyes, but his brain gets distracted and he’s fisting jaemin’s shirt in his hands so that the older can’t go anywhere.

he’s just fucking beautiful. he makes jisung’s mind short circuit. 

he’s sleeping on his stomach, bare back exposed under the sunlight. jisung’s fingertips dance over jaemin’s warm skin, tapping and rubbing, tracing words onto his skin.

jaemin stirs in his sleep, but doesn’t wake and jisung is glad. when jaemin’s awake, his mind goes all fuzzy. but, when jaemin’s sleeping, jisung feels like he can finally fucking think. everything is so clear and he can see perfectly.

it’s like, jisung can finally understand and process things without the thoughts of kissing jaemin, of holding his hand, of cuddling him, of watching him, of sitting next to him, of standing right on top of him as the he makes food, or admiring him, of listening to him. all the words spinning around in his mind trying to form coherent and eloquent sentences finally settle and everything is so simple.

a one syllable, four-letter word always finds its way to jisung. when the noise of everthing else subdues, all he can see and hear and feel is this word. he sure as hell hopes jaemin feels the same.

he can feels jaemin’s eyes on him. always on him. he’s dancing, just messing around with different songs and covers like him and jeno usully do, only jeno sleeps in until 10 on their off days and jisung was too awake at eight this morning, so he had to go to the studio. and of course jaemin had to tag along.

“looks good,” jaemin says, sitting off to the left of jisung on the floor, hoodie flooding. 

jisung looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. “i’m not even dancing.”

“i wasn’t talking about your dancing,” jaemin grins. his hair is covering his eyes, even from under his baseball cap. 

“why did i agree to let you come again?” jisung doesn’t wait for an answer before he turns on the music. it blasts through the speakers and he jumps. jaemin laughs from behind him.

jisung freestyles, gong with the flow of it. he gets lost in it. dancing is another time jisung’s mind can take a break from the jaemin overdrive. he can just dance. not thinking required.

he doesn’t hear jaemin get up. he doesn’t see jaemin until he’s standing next to him, watching curiously.

“you’re soo good, sung,” jaemin rubs his chin. “one of the best.”

“you’re just saying that because you have to.”

“why would i have to say that?”

“because you’re my boy—” jisung stops himself, cutting the music off and feeling everything turn red, even his ears. 

“i’m you’re...what?” jaemin doesn’t look mad or anything. no. he looks chill as fuck. fuck him.

it’s jisung making a mess of things. “i-i...well, uh...you know...my...boy, who’s a-a...well...a friend?”

“nah,” jaemin waves his hand and walks over to jisung, wrapping his arms around the younger’s waist. “i think you meant boyfriend, like the kind with no space in the middle. is that what you want, sungie? want me to be your boyfriend?”

“shut up!” jisung covers his face with his hands and buries his face in jaemin’s neck. god, why is his brain broken? what in the hell did he deserve to get this? did he murder someone in his past life? did he kick a puppy? what?

“hey,” jaemin raches for the nape of jisung’s neck and pinches, causing the other to yelp and jump backward. they make eye contact.

jisung narrows his eyes. “that was mean.”

jaemin shrugs. “i’m your boyfriend, i’m allowed to be mean.”

“you’re not my—”

“i will be...if you want me to be.” jaemin is serious, which he very rarely is.

jisung swallows hard. “you want to be my...boyfriend?”

“yeah, if you want to be mine, of course.” 

jisung’s brain glitches out, stops working completely. 

“sung?” jaemin says after a minute and a half of silence. “you okay?”

“yes,” jisung breathes out, “yes. i’m okay. yes, i wanna be your boyfriend and i want you to be mine.”

jaemin smiles and jisung swears his heart stops beating for a solid minute. “good, boyfriend.”

jisung pushes jaemin away, and then he pulls him back to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed
> 
> pls leave kudos n a comment. nothing is too long or short:)
> 
> this is my first time writing jaesung, but i honestly just love their dynamics 
> 
> see u l8er,
> 
> \- liv 
> 
> [twit](https://twitter.com/flirtmarkno)
> 
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/marknohyuck)


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